In Between
by PieceOfShit96
Summary: Otis's life after he escaped the abuse of his parents and before he joined the Firefly family.
1. Chapter 1

Living on your own isn't all its cracked up to be, Otis learned.

He was bored most of the time. At 15, and with his appearance the way it was, he couldn't really find a very good job anywhere. He didn't really have any marketable skills, and people turned him away almost as soon as he walked in the door. Especially once they found out how old he was. No one wanted a smart-ass albino 15 year old working for them. He couldn't even drive-well...legally, anyway.

It had only been two years since he escaped his parents abuse. He was still fearful of everything and everyone. He had a hatred for the world that burned in his gut. He didn't trust anyone, didn't need anyone.

He had found shelter for himself in an apartment complex that was pretty much abandoned- the water still worked and the electricity still worked, but no one lived in it. There had been soap in the bathroom and canned food in the kitchen.

Discovering he had no money left from the victim he had taken earlier in the week, he set out on a hunt. He found a rich old couple coming down the highway he was sitting beside. No one was anywhere near this road at this time of night except hunters and their prey. God, he loved this.

He got out of the car he had stolen two years ago in his home town and hobbled on the side of the road, feigning injury.

"HELP! HELP!" He grabbed his leg, collapsing in the road.

They pulled over, dirt and dust flying in Otis's face. He groaned, still clutching his leg.

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

He almost felt a pang of remorse as he drove a knife through the old woman's chest. Almost.

Then came the older man. He slit his throat.

He dug through their car and clothes and found their wallets. Filled with cash.

He felt giddy for the first time in his life. He didn't have to worry for a while. Driving back to his apartment, he cranked the radio and sang along.

The next day he puttered around and did whatever he wanted. As night began to fall, he decided to treat himself and see if he could get into a bar somewhere.

He found out that no one carded him if he held enough confidence, so he ordered himself a beer and sat down at the bar. Pretty soon, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped, spinning around. Though he had slit his parent's throats and watched them choke on their own blood, there was still a part of him that expected them to still be alive, and to find him wherever he went.

"Hey, sweetie. You busy tonight?" She was tall and thin, but not as tall as Otis. She had coal black hair cut into a bob with straight across bangs. She wore feather earrings and loud lipstick. She had a crop-top and shorts on with high boots.

"What?"

"I said. Are you busy tonight?" She licked her lips, looking Otis up and down.

He gulped. He had a feeling he knew what this woman wanted, and he was more than willing for that, but he had a chronic distrust of people. "No...?"

"How about you finish that beer and I'll show you a good time?"

Not breaking eye contact, he chugged the beer and followed her.

She led him to a panel van painted with a bright sunset and wolves. Swinging open the door, she invited him in.

Cautiously, he stepped into the van. There was a makeshift bed- just a mattress with some blankets.

"Don't look so much like a deer in the headlights, darlin'." She took his hands and put them to her breasts. He pulled her shirt off, then started to take his clothes off.

Before he knew it, they were rolling around on that mattress together.

He had never had consensual sex in his life- just his daddy and whoever else his parents invited fucking him. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, but he gathered from experience. But God, did it feel good. He understood the need for sexual contact now. To have power over someone like he did over this woman was incredible to him. And she let him, and she loved it.

When they had both finished, she pushed him on his back and smirked at him. Terror rose in him. Being held down was never a pleasant thing in his experience.

She took him into his mouth and he groaned loudly, almost embarrassingly so. He had been forced to do this many times, but finally to experience it was amazing.

Wait...he was pretty sure you weren't supposed to use your teeth.

She alternated between pleasure and borderline pain, and he wasn't entirely sure he was into it.

When she was finished with him, he pulled his pants on and skittered away from the van, a smirk on his face.

Yeah, he was on his own now.


	2. Chapter 2

He began to wander around town more and more, feeling more confident in his own skin. He was 16 now, officially able to drive. Not that it had mattered.

He frequented a little soda shop in town for lunch. He had found a job in a trinket shop across the street, and usually walked over during his lunch break.

There was a girl there who seemed to be pretty interested in him.

Her name was Caroline. The first day she had seen him eating alone, she had sat with him, saying she didn't like to see people eating alone. It was too sad.

He had smiled to himself. She seemed kind enough as she sat and chatted with him. It became an every day affair, sitting and talking with him. He mainly listened, but it felt good to have someone to talk to.

"Hey, Otis. Why don't you come over to my house after you're done with work today?" She bit her lip.

"Huh?"

"I'll wait for you at your shop. And then you can follow me to my house...My parents aren't home."

"Er...okay." His eyes darted back and forth between hers.

"See you later, handsome." She winked at him as she walked away.

She was waiting for him as he walked out of the shop. She drove him to her home, a large house in the countryside. Otis was shell-shocked as he got out of the car.

"Ain't you ever been on this side of town before?" She giggled.

"...No..." He had never been around anyone wealthy. He had had no idea that she was.

She didn't even wait until they had passed the threshold of her house until she was on him, tearing his flannel shirt off and pushing his cap off of his head, pressing kisses against his neck that made him dizzy.

She lead him up to her bedroom and pinned him against the wall. Panic rose in his gut. Unwilling to let his past ruin this for him, he shoved her to the bed and crawled on top of her.

"What're you waiting for?" She licked her lips as she fondled him. "Show me what I've been flirting with."

She moaned as he fucked her. God, he felt powerful. For the first time in his life he felt like a God, making her squirm and beg for him like she did, making her moan his name over and over.

When he was satisfied, he rolled over onto the bed beside her, panting.

"Damn...You're good at that." She smirked, resting a hand on his chest.

The rest of the night, they talked and laughed, having another round or two in between. He fell asleep on her couch, her curled up to him.

She woke him up in time for him to get to work that morning, serving him a cup of coffee and a muffin and driving him into town.

That wasn't the last time she invited him over. It became a very frequent event for them to have sex. Almost as often as she talked to him in the soda shop. He enjoyed her company; he liked how a smile easily came to his face when she smiled. He liked the way she giggled at his stupid jokes. He liked the way she could make him forget how angry he was.

He had never been shown affection in his life, but he thought that maybe she could qualify as the first person to show him. She left sweet kisses on his neck and slept on him so sweetly. He liked to have her curled up to him.

She knew he was albino- they had had a discussion about it. Why his eyes were red, why he was so pale. She had just shrugged like it didn't matter.

Otis hesitated with the clippers in his hand. He had been keeping his hair extremely short since he had escaped. His parents had always kept his head shaved, but he didn't like the jagged scars that made their way across his scalp, so he just kept it short. They had always said if they kept his head shaved, he would just look like a sickly little boy instead of an albino. They had hated him for it. But Caroline didn't seem to care. Maybe he didn't have to hide anymore. He had wanted long hair since he could remember. He had long hair before his mother had hacked it all off. That was the one redeeming factor about his appearance, in his opinion. He loved how white it was.

He sighed, putting the clippers back on the sink counter. It was time to reclaim his body as his own, and do what he wanted with it.

He met with Caroline that night again, downing her in bed. She rubbed her and on his head, giggling.

"Your peach fuzz is gettin' more like tree leaves, Otis."

"Mm...Growin' it out, I think." He mumbled, kissing her neck.

"Nn...That's a good idea..."

His heart fluttered. She had just given him approval of something everyone had told them they hated. As he ravaged her, he couldn't stop smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

He and Caroline continued their little affair through the summer.

He wasn't sure about much, but he was sure he really liked this girl. He liked how she made him feel. He liked how she let him fuck her any way he wanted. He liked how she made him laugh and made him smile. He was cautious, but he really thought he might be in love with her.

He tried to be more affectionate during their rounds. He tried to show her that he appreciated her. He was gentler now. He tried to make sure she was as pleased as he was.

He wasn't sure really what love was. He hadn't known it through his entire life. But he tried, based on what he observed.

He began bringing her flowers and small gifts he had made. She seemed tickled each time, making over them for hours. God, it made him feel good to have approval like that for the first time. She always kissed his cheek when he brought her something, standing on her tiptoes to plant the sweet kiss. He felt human for once. He felt normal. Maybe, just maybe he had a chance at happiness for the first time in his life. Maybe he could live a normal life, after all.

It was early August. Otis was working at the shop, waiting for the night. He eagerly awaited the evenings now that he spent them with her.

He went to her home that night, bringing her flowers once more.

They were at it again. She tried to pin him to the bed, trying to get the upper hand this time, trying to be on top. He started to panic, beginning to shake under her as he stared up, wide eyed. She ignored him and kissed his neck.

"N...No...Let me up...You can't do that..." He tried to push her off.

"What?"

He shoved her off of him roughly, earning a disgruntled squeak from her. "I said you can't do that..."

"Do what?"

"Be on top of me..."

She smirked. "Why? Did your daddy fuck you?"

He gulped. "Y...Yeah..."

She laughed. "What? Seriously?!" She rolled off of him. "That's fucking disgusting! Ugh." She laughed cruelly. "You've got daddy issues. Your daddy fucked you!" She mocked. "Did you take it up the ass like a man? Did you cry like a little girl? Or did you want it? Did you think it was hot? I bet you did. I bet you moaned like a ghost."

Otis shrunk back. He couldn't believe this was the same girl.

"You're disgusting. I never would have fucked you if I knew that. You're a fucking freak, anyway. You belong in a side show. That's all fine and good. My boyfriend is coming home next week. I can go a week without your mediocre dick."

She all but shoved him out the door to stand in the streets, dumbfounded.

Her words had stung and cut deeply. He had thought she cared about him. He had thought she liked him as much as he liked her. He held the flowers he had brought her in his hand as he shuffled back to town. His parents had been right. He was unlovable. They had broken him. No one would ever want him now. No one would ever want the albino freak who was raped by his daddy.

He tossed the flowers in a puddle to wilt. How fucking stupid could he have been to think she liked him back? Fucking idiot. He was just a plaything to her. Just a fuck buddy until her boyfriend came back into town. How could he have been so foolish? How could he have thought he could have happiness in this cursed life?

God, her words hurt. They stung like wounds from a whip. She had taken his suffering as a joke. He should have never told her. He should have just flipped her over and dominated her. He should have killed her where she lay. Fucking bitch.

When he got back to his apartment, he stood in front of the mirror, staring at the clippers. No. He wouldn't let their voices dictate him anymore. He would look how he wanted to and he who he wanted to be.

Rage boiled in him, and he punched the mirror, shattering it. He hated himself. He hated that reflection. Hated how much pain the pale skin and red eyes had brought him. It wasn't his fault. None of it was his fault, but he was the one to suffer.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his fists to his head, pounding his forehead until it ached. He tried so hard to hold back tears, but they came anyway.

"Why? Why!? No! NO!" He sobbed. He didn't want to cry over that stupid fucking girl. It wasn't even really about that- it was her words. Making light of his suffering, something that he found to be so horrible and so painful, she made fun of him for. She had called him a freak.

No one would ever want him. But that was okay. He would just take what he wanted instead. Fuck everyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

Otis was furious.

He had been taken as nothing but a plaything, yet again.

He had just started to gain some self-worth. To understand that he wasn't just a toy- he had value as a person, that he mattered.

She had broken him down again. He was right back where he started. He felt so fucking stupid. That he had thought he could have some kind of happiness. He hated himself for allowing himself to feel what he had. He had thought he loved her. He had thought she liked him the same way he liked her. He had thought he had a future with her, however long that would be. He had thought he could enjoy himself. How fucking stupid.

He grew more bitter and hateful toward the world. Everyone he had even slightly trusted had burned him. He wouldn't trust anyone ever again. He had to fend for himself.

"Boy, you alright?" His manager at the trinket shop asked. "You seem like you've got a dark cloud over you..." The older man knew better than to rest a consoling hand on Otis's shoulder. He knew the young boy didn't like to be touched. Otis always flinched, and he didn't ask why.

"I'm fine." He muttered, going about straightening up the store.

"If you need to talk, son...I...I'm more than willing to lend an ear."

"Thanks, but I don't want to talk. I'm fine."

"Okay. Just so you know the offer is there."

Otis nodded.

He went home to his empty apartment and curled up on his floor in an upright fetal position. He had fought so hard to survive, but to what point?

No, he wouldn't give his parents that satisfaction. He would fight. He wouldn't end it. He wasn't a coward. He would face this just like he had faced everything else.

He stared at the make-shift bed on the floor. He couldn't sleep on a mattress anymore. No good had ever come from being on a mattress. It made him sick to think about it. Maybe some day he would be able to again. But not right now.

He sighed. He knew he should have something to eat, but he couldn't make himself get up.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but it was until his body ached with the stillness. When he finally stood, he wandered over to the couch and flopped down on it.

God, this hurt. Rejection hurt. The fact that she had had a boyfriend and was just using him hurt. What she had said about his abuse had really, really stung- how she had made fun of it and laughed in his face. Called him disgusting. He had always told himself he was, but the words had a special pain when someone else said them.

It didn't hurt anywhere near as much as his parent's cruel words, but it was enough. He had had enough pain in his life.

God, he longed for someone to love him. That was all he wanted for as long as he could remember. As he longingly stared out the window, watching the other children from his bedroom as a child. He had just wanted his parents to love him, for just once to not hit him and hold him and cuddle him instead. To give him sweet kisses on the cheek instead of assaulting him in the most cruel ways they could think of. He just wanted affection. Some kind of affection. Someone to look at him and not see him as a fucking toy to just be used and thrown to the side, disposable.

He couldn't ever let anyone in again, though. His pain was more powerful than his longing for affection. He couldn't risk going through that again. The risks definitely did not outweigh the benefits, in his opinion. He felt humiliated. He never wanted to feel humiliated again- his father had done that enough.

He didn't eat that night. He just went to sleep.

He stopped going to the soda shop for lunch. He stopped eating lunch all together.

"Boy...You ain't eatin'. That's not good for you. You're still growin' yet. You've gotta make sure you eat. Ain't you got nothin'?"

"No. I'm fine. I have food."

"You're gettin' too thin there, boy...You're worryin' me."

"I said I'm fine."

Otis knew he was wasting away. He knew he couldn't last much longer. He had gained weight when he was in the hospital right after he had escaped, but there had been something eating away at him in the back of his mind.

His mother had told him that she would love him more if he was skinny. He was already skin and bone- he wasn't fed regularly, if at all. But he had stopped eating all together, gorging at the end of a week and then vomiting it all back up. She had laughed in his face when he asked if she loved him now, when he was ready to pass out standing up.

That had stayed with him. _If you're thin, they'll love you. If you waste yourself away, the pain will stop because you'll be good then. You'll be a good man, then. You'll be lovable._

"If you need me to, I can bring you some food, son."

"I'm alright...Don't worry about me, old man. You've got enough."

Otis was running out of money. He had started to have to scavenge at night, when his stomach growled and ached too much for him to ignore.

So, this was freedom, Otis thought bitterly.


	5. Chapter 5

Otis spiraled downward into his own head.

Most nights, he just sat in the middle of the floor in the apartment, curled into a fetal position and thought. Thought about what had happened to him. Thought about how he had escaped. Thought about how he would get through the rest of the week. Thought about how he would find food.

It was the slow season for the old man after the summer had ended. He was calling Otis in to work less and less. Otis could hardly afford the food he needed to survive, even though he had drastically decreased the amount he was eating- starving himself like he had before.

He had taken to the dumpsters behind the restaurants in town, scavenging for whatever he could to eat. He rarely got caught, but one night, he wandered into the wrong alley.

It was behind the most expensive restaurant in the town, and the security guard had gone out for a smoke. Otis was rummaging in the garbage the cook had just taken out and was quite pleased with his findings. He shoved whatever he could into his mouth, swallowing quickly. He didn't even taste the food, he just knew he needed to eat. He hadn't eaten for days- hadn't found anything that wasn't rotten or inedible, but he had hit the jackpot.

"Hey!" He heard as he felt a hand around the back of his neck, yanking him out of the dumpster. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Starving, jackass." Otis growled.

The large man slapped Otis across the face. "The fuck did you say?"

He turned slowly back to him. "I said. Starving."

He dropped Otis in the alleyway and kicked him in the stomach. Otis thought he was going to retch.

 _God, no...No I can't...I need that..._

Another kick, this time landing solidly on his kidney. He growled in pain. Another kick to the face.

Otis scrambled to his feet and started running, ducking behind alleyways that he knew like the back of his hand in an effort to get away. When he felt safe, he leaned against a brick wall and tried to catch his breath. He was closer to his apartment, thank God.

Fuck, his ribs hurt. His back hurt. He knew he would have large bruises in the morning, but for now, he was safe. He had gotten away. He cringed as his chest heaved with breath.

He smirked to himself. At least he had gotten away with some food in his stomach.

He stopped by the next morning at the old man's trinket shop, like he did every day, to ask if he needed him.

"Ah, yeah, we just got some tourists in to- Holy sweet Jesus boy, what happened to you?"

Otis knew he had a black eye. He just sighed. "Ah...nothin'."

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. "Let me guess. You should see the other guy, right?"

Otis smiled, despite himself. "Yeah. I guess."

Walking home, he heard someone kick a rock behind him. He kept walking, looking in his peripherals to check and see if anyone was there.

"Hey, freak!" He heard. A jolt went through his system. He hated that word. He hated being called that. His mother had called him that until she was blue in the face while she was beating him. He tried to ignore it, and kept walking. "I said, hey, freak!"

"Call me that one more goddamn time you fucking cunt and I'll show you why you don't call someone that."

He chuckled bitterly. "What're you gonna do? Let me fuck you like your daddy fucked you?"

Otis froze. This was Caroline's boyfriend. She had told him. But she had twisted the story, he was sure.

"You think you can use your sob story to get my girl? You fuckin' freak." He took a few more steps toward Otis, who glared dangerously back at him.

"Watch yourself. I'm warning you."

"Why? Caroline told me everything. How you begged her to sleep with you and to just love you. How you stalked her in the soda shop. How you told her your sob story, and when she told you how disgusting it was how you left sobbing like a little girl."

Rage filled Otis. That wasn't what had happened at all. He understood, in a way. She was trying to stay out of trouble with her boyfriend. "Do you really think you're a big man by doing this?" He smirked. "If I'm such a weak little bitch like she says I am, what do you gain out of beating the shit out of me?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, does it? I'm going to do it anyway."

"That's what you think." Otis smirked as the boy drew back to punch him. Otis grabbed his fist on the follow through, twisting his arm behind his back and spinning him around. Otis placed his knife against the boys throat, chuckling in his ear. "Now, what did you say about my daddy fuckin' me?"

"I...I...I..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Otis slit his throat and let him fall to the ground as he choked on his own blood, spitting it everywhere.

Otis drug his body into an alley and dropped it into a dumpster. Fuckin' piece of shit anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

Caroline's boyfriend had been found a few days later, bloated and decaying in that dumpster. Someone had apparently reported the smell, and the police had been called.

She came into the store one day when he was working.

"You. You son of a bitch." She pointed her finger angrily at him.

"What?"

"You fucking killed him!"

"Who? What're you talking about?"

"Peter! You fucking killed him!"

"Oh, he died? I'm so sorry." He feigned sympathy.

"Meet me at my house. Tonight. Midnight."

"I've got a better idea, sweetheart." He wrote down his address and slipped the paper across the counter to her. She nodded and stormed out.

Not the brightest idea, on her part.

He killed her, too. He slit her throat and let her die just like her boyfriend had. He wasn't disposing of her, though. Ooooh no. She was far too much fun. He placed her on the bed that he didn't use- perhaps it had a purpose, after all.

He stripped her clothes off slowly, enjoying the anticipation. Just like when she had done it. He stroked her hair, licking his lips. He felt himself growing hard. He had total and utter control over her. She couldn't move. Couldn't fight him. Couldn't hurt him anymore. Couldn't use his trust against him.

He fucked her long and hard until he couldn't focus anymore and collapsed beside her body.

No, he couldn't lay there for very long. Beds had such a negative connotation to him now, the memories they triggered weren't worth the comfortable furniture.

He let Caroline lay there. She had a purpose, after all.

Fall fell in whatever small town Otis had landed in, and he felt himself growing weaker. He was rapidly losing weight, and he knew his body wasn't fighting off infection as well.

Otis worked for the old man as he could intermittently, and as he started to cough, the old man grew concerned.

"You're wastin' away to nothin', Otis. You look like hell and you're startin' to get sick..."

"Thanks."

"No, I mean I'm worried about you, boy. Are you takin' care of yourself?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Alright...You get yourself checked out, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

While he was far from it, he couldn't let on to anyone that he needed help. He couldn't trust anyone ever again. He stole whatever medicine he could and tea from a grocery store in town, and tried to doctor himself. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he had to hunt for food to survive. He drug his aching body through the streets, picking food off of tables as he passed them and digging through dumpsters. Once he had felt he had eaten enough for that round, he returned home and huddled in a corner in his apartment. He wrapped all the blankets he could find around himself, shivering. God, his body ached. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to take care of himself when he was sick. He had never had anyone take care of him.

"Fuck, shit fuck..." He buried his face in his blankets, groaning. "Fuckin' baby...Fuckin'...Whiney ass whore...Stop fuckin' shiverin'...You ain't sick...You've been sick..." He muttered to himself.

He read the directions on the medicine he had stolen and took what he could. Admittedly, he did start to feel a bit better after a while, and was somewhat proud of himself for succeeding in the care.

He made himself some tea and huddled in his blankets once more, curling up in his makeshift bed, placing the mug of tea beside him.

Rest was what he needed, he reasoned. Rest always helped everything, right? He just needed rest.

When he woke up in the morning, his mouth felt dry and his eyes were still heavy. He raised his head- it was daylight. But he had no idea what time. Groaning, he forced himself up. the medicine had worn off. He needed more.

He straggled to the kitchen and measure out the liquid, beginning to shiver again.

His stomach rumbled. Fuck, he needed to find food.

Exhausted, he returned to his nest and laid down. It could wait until the medicine began to work again.

He moaned. God, he lived a miserable existence, he thought. Why was he even still trying? What was he trying to prove?

He was trying to prove he could do it. He was trying to prove he deserved happiness; however that may be. He was surviving. He wouldn't let the people who had wronged him win. They wanted him to give up. But he wouldn't. He would survive. He would fight.

He lay his head back down. The cool floorboards felt good against his feverish forehead, and he relaxed, cuddling into his cocoon of blankets further and letting himself slip into sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Otis slowly recovered from his illness. He eventually regained his strength and started to feel better. He knew he wasn't taking proper care of himself, but he was doing the best he could with what he had.

Scavenging for food one night, he heard a soft mewing behind him. His heart panged, thinking to a time before when a kitten had come wandering up to him.

 _He was walking along the neighborhood, kicking a rock and toying with a stick. His parents had beaten him early that day- he already had a fat lip and a bruised eye. He tried not to cry. Crying only made it hurt worse._

 _He heard a soft mewing and looked all around. He had never seen a kitty before!_

 _Then it came out from behind a trashcan. A snow white little puff ball with red eyes, just like his! It was albino! Just like him!_

 _He smiled hugely and ran up to the kitten, who didn't seem to flinch at all as he scooped it up into his arms, nuzzling his face into its soft fur. It purred loudly, rubbing on his face._

 _He had made the mistake of taking the kitten home. He tried to hide it from his parents, but they had inevitably discovered the animal._

 _"This your little friend, huh?" His father smiled cruelly back at him._

 _Otis begged and begged for his father not to hurt the kitten, to just set it free._

 _He watched in horror as his father split the baby with his knife like he was gutting a deer._

 _"Here, you fuckin' freak! It's a fuckin' freakshow just like you! It belongs with you, always!" He pulled the entrails out of the animal and shoved them into Otis's mouth._

 _He couldn't remember when he had stopped vomiting that night, or when he had stopped crying. But he knew immediately after he was punished._

Otis shuddered, coming back to reality. He heard the kitten mewling again, and looked down at his feet. It was encircling him, rubbing against his legs.

It wasn't white this time- it was a black and orange striped cat with a white belly. It was just a kitten, too, and it was hungry.

"Hey, little guy." Otis began to crouch down. The kitten skittered away and turned back and looked at him. Otis sat down on the ground and extended his hand. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." He kissed at it and clicked his tongue in the back of his throat, trying to attract it back to him once more.

The kitten slowly approached him again, hopping onto his shin and walking the length of his legs.

Otis chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a ballsy little thing, ain't cha?" He gently scratched behind the kitten's ear. It mewed at him in response. "You're hungry, huh?" He sighed. "Me too..." He stroked the kitten, finding himself forgetting about his problems for a moment and just enjoying the sweet animal's presence. He sat and played with the animal for a while, finally able to smile for the first time in a while. "Wish I could take you...But I ain't able to even take care of myself, let alone a little guy like you..." He stood, careful not to step on the little creature. "I'll come and visit you though, yeah? That sound okay?" He chuckled as the baby mewled back at him. "Okay." He ventured home once more to sit alone in his apartment.

He found that when he visited the kitten, the nights weren't as hard, so he tried to visit as much as he could. The kitten grew quickly, though it didn't have much food. He would sit for a few hours at a time, playing with it and petting it, letting his stress and pain fall away into the eyes of that sweet animal.

This animal couldn't hurt him like people had. It couldn't say the hurtful things he expected to always hear, it couldn't beat him or worse...It couldn't insult him. It only provided him with a smile and went on its way, just trying to survive itself.

He had heard somewhere along the line that animals were good for the soul. Well, now he believed it. He truly felt better when he saw that little thing. Whether it was just because it made him smile and forget what had happened to him for a moment, or if it gave him a connection he longed for but never had he wasn't sure, but he was sure there was no harm in visiting the little fluff ball.

One day when he was wandering back from the shop, he stepped into the alley where the kitten resided. His heart sunk when he saw blood.

"Hey, little guy? You okay? Here kitty kitty kitty..." He called. No mewling. It always answered him when he called.

He shifted the boxes around in the alley and came across what he was afraid of.

There lay the little kitten. It had been attacked by something, blood still pouring out of its neck where it had been bitten.

Otis sighed.

 _Poor thing...Didn't even have a chance._ He thought as he gently placed the body in a small box he found in the alley.

He carried it to a field he had found when he was out exploring and dug a hole, placing the box inside and burying the kitten.

He sighed once more and turned to go home. Alone, once again.


	8. Chapter 8

As winter closed in on the small town, Otis grew weaker and weaker. People weren't eating outside as much anymore, so it was harder to swipe food off of plates. The dumpsters were just as full, but as the wind chilled, it was harder for him to stay out and rummage. He began to steal food more frequently from stores, and it was getting harder and harder for him to run away when he got caught.

Luckily, with the holidays approaching, the shop manager in town offered him more work. Otis had stopped coming in every day until the holidays begun, hoping he would be able to find something for him.

"Holy shit, Otis...You look horrible...What have you been doing to yourself?"

"Nothin...I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look it. You been sick or somethin'?"

"No..."

"You just ain't been eatin'."

He looked up at the older man from under the bill of his cap.

"That's what I thought. Why?"

Otis shrugged. "Ain't got the money."

"Shit, kid. You coulda said somethin'."

"Don't ask for things from people. Only gets you in trouble."

"Boy...You've gotta trust someone in your life. Don't you get lonely?"

Otis shook his head. It was a lie; of course he was lonely. He was utterly miserable.

He sighed. "My wife'll fix you up a plate of somethin' for lunch when you work, alright?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I can't pay you or give you anything. I don't...I don't have anything."

"You don't have to pay us, son. You're gonna die if you don't get back on track."

"No, I...I can't...I can't, please..." Otis's voice began to shake. It made him nervous to have someone do something for him. They always wanted something in return, even if they said they didn't. If they said they didn't, they were lying, and would take it from you later. Whether you wanted to or not...

"Son, at least let us give you some groceries."

"NO...No, I..."

"Relax...Relax...Boy, somethin' real bad musta happened to you to be actin' like you are..."

Otis looked away, ashamed.

"Alright...Alright. I won't push about it no more, okay?"

Otis nodded.

"You can work for me tomorrow?"

Otis nodded again.

"Alright. You take care of yourself, you hear?"

Otis turned on his heels after nodding once more at the man. He stalked the highway that night, killing anyone who crossed his path.

A young couple. Teenagers, just like himself, who had stopped to help what they assumed to be an injured school mate.

Another young couple, this time in their late 20's. The woman was pregnant. They had just gotten their paychecks cashed from work, as they had a large amount of cash in their wallets.

A young man coming home from work, also with a freshly cashed paycheck. He worked at a fast food restaurant. Otis had seen him before, when he was scrounging the dumpster.

He left that night with a few new pairs of clothing, a thick denim jacket, and about 1,000 dollars in cash. He wouldn't have to worry for a while, again. He didn't like killing so many at once. It was a huge risk of getting caught, but he was desperate, hungry, and cold.

He took the youngest woman back to his apartment with him, using her for a good time later on. He stocked the apartment with canned goods, things he knew wouldn't spoil. He would have to severely limit his food intake, but he could do it. He had done it before.

He went into the store the next day, wearing his new denim jacket that guarded him nicely from the breeze. He had slept well that night. He had had sex with the young woman's body, and had a decent meal for the first time in weeks. He felt good.

"Hey! Goodmorning! You got some light in your eyes today, boy!"

Otis couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. I guess..."

He worked all day for the old man, dreading walking home alone.

Now, as the holidays approached, there were happy families everywhere. Shop windows were decorated with smiling faces and twinkling lights.

It hurt Otis deeply somewhere. He longed for that connection. He longed to feel the love of a family. He longed for the childhood he missed, ached so, so much for the affection he saw in front of him. Parents scooping up their children and giving them sweet kisses on the cheek, holding their hands as they walked along the busy sidewalks, giving them warm hugs. He had never had that. Only cold, brutal hands laid on him maliciously. He watched the children pointing excitedly in shop windows, pointing at toys they wanted for Christmas.

Christmas. That was an entirely new concept to him, too.

He had read about it in the newspapers he had been beaten with; how children lined up to sit on a fat old man in a red suit's lap. He was called Santa Claus, and apparently, he brought them gifts. The good children.

He remembered, ashamedly, when he had asked his parents about Christmas. That was when he found out when his birthday was.

 _"Ohhh, yeah. You were my Christmas gift 8 years ago! What a fucking awful gift! I should take you back." She laughed cruelly. "You were born two days before Christmas. That was the worst fucking day of my life! Presents?! You want PRESENTS?!" She lowered her voice, feigning sweetness. "Well, only good little boys and girls get presents. Are you a good boy? NO! You're the fucking son of SATAN! You little red eyed, white freak fucker!" She had beaten him so cruelly that night, not that any night was different, it just seemed to have more sting to it for some reason._

Otis sighed, shaking the memory off of him. He hated these children, resented them. He was so jealous of the love they received. Love he had wanted for so long and love they took for granted.

That night, he went home and sat alone, hearing the sound of children singing Christmas carols through his window.


	9. Chapter 9

Otis worked the two days leading up to Christmas, trying to fill his time as best as he could.

The 23rd was his birthday. Happy _fucking_ birthday to him. The only thing he had ever gotten was beaten. The gift his parents gave him for his seventh birthday was the first time he had been sexually assaulted. What a wonderful gift for their little albino bundle of joy.

He fought the chill with the denim jacket he had stolen, hoarding money for when he really needed it. He didn't want to spend it on unnecessary things like clothes.

Bitterness filled his heart as he saw the happy children walking down the street. Excitement dancing in their eyes along with the white string Christmas lights hung around the town. Little fuckers had no idea how good they had it. He longed so much to hear the words 'I love you'.

"Hey, kiddo. You look a little sour."

Otis just shrugged.

"It's Christmas time! How can you be so sore about it?"

"Never meant anything different to me." He averted his gaze, hoping the old man would catch on to what he was saying and leave him alone without pressing about his past.

"Well...Did...Did you get your shopping done?"

"What?"

"For gifts!"

Otis snorted. "Don't got no one to give to."

"What? You're...You're alone?"

Otis nodded.

"Even on Christmas?!"

"Old man, I told you, I ain't got no one."

"No family?"

Otis shook his head.

"No friends?"

Again, Otis shook his head.

"You...You're alone?"

"People come with risks I'm not willing to take."

"Ohh, come on now, son."

"I'm fine."

"Why don't you come over to my house for Christmas? My wife wouldn't mind! We just have all this extra food and...And why, there's no reason you can't come!"

"I...I said I'm fine..."

"Who wants to be alone at Christmas!"

"Me...P...Please...I appreciate the offer, I really do...But...But I...I'm going to decline."

"Well...What if I brought you some food to your house."

There was a rotting corpse at his apartment in his bed, it was technically abandoned and he was squatting. "Uh...N...No, that's alright."

"Why?"

"I...I don't want to take from you. Please, just..."

"Okay. Okay. Just know that the offer still stands, if ever you need anything. Alright?"

Otis nodded. "Thank you."

Christmas Eve rolled around. Otis perused the bars for a sad, lonely girl to have sex with. He found one. One who's boyfriend had just broken up with her. She wanted revenge sex, which was just fine by Otis.

They fucked in the back of her car, rough and dirty and sloppy, but god it was good. And it felt good. It felt good to use someone like he had been used.

Stuffing himself back into his pants as he walked away from her car, he smirked to himself.

 _Merry Christmas. Ho Ho Ho._

He stopped by the liquor store and bought two bottles of the cheapest hardest shit he could find. He drank one bottle that night, curled up in his makeshift bed, listening to the hustle and bustle on the street.

The next day was Christmas. Otis watched the dead street, thinking about all the festivities other families were taking part in. Did he even know any? What did people do around Christmas? He had had no idea his life wasn't normal until he started looking out the window at the other children passing by his window as a child. He had an inkling then, but who knew what happened behind closed doors? Maybe this was just how children grew up.

When he finally was set free was when he realized just how terrible it had been. Just exactly how not normal all of the brutality he faced was.

He nursed his bottle as the sun went down, listening to the Christmas music blasting from a neighbor's house. Sitting by the window, he saw it begin to flurry outside. He had never seen snow before. But he knew it was cold, and had no interest in going out into it whatsoever. Not when he was relatively warm and comfortable. He watched it, though, marveling at its simple beauty. Why could people consider one white thing so beautiful and then laugh in his face when he just wanted a fucking job?

He envisioned children opening their gifts from under the tree, squealing in delight at the new doll or truck or what ever the fuck their parents had gotten them.

He wished someone would just love him...But he was so, so scared. He was so afraid of being hurt again. That first girl...Caroline...Had hurt him so much. She had torn at his self-esteem and self-worth, diminishing him to less than he had been already. He hated her for it. Despised her. She had used him just like everyone else had. But it was his fault, he had taken the barbed wire away from his heart and had let her in. And she had made him bleed like everyone else had. It was his stupid fault. So this time, the barbed wire sat atop a mile-high brick wall over his heart. He would never let anyone in again. Not like that.

But god, DAMMIT he just wanted to be loved.

He watched a couple walk happily down the street, hand in hand, and kiss each other in the falling snow. He watched a family skip down the street, either parent on either side of a giggling little girl as they swung her playfully.

"Merry _fucking_ Christmas, Otis..." He muttered, taking another swig of alcohol. The burn down his throat numbed the pain in his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

December melted into January, and January led to February. March came calmly, leaving Otis some sort of hope as the weather began to warm up and people began to eat outside again. he could easily sneak food off of plates as he walked by unsuspecting diners.

He sat at the bar, nursing a beer, contemplating how he had gotten this fucking low. He felt a tap on his shoulder and whirled around, meeting face to face with a young woman.

"Hey, you. You lonely?" She had long blonde hair and wore a tennis skirt and white sneakers topped with a pink sweater. She looked like the least likely person to be talking to him in the world. "Do you care if I sit with you?"

"Last time I checked, you didn't need my permission."

She smiled and sat next to him. God, she looked out of place at this bar. This prissy- bubble gum girl sitting at this grungy bar next to the scrawny albino kid who was drinking at a bar at 17.

"You new around town?"

"New enough."

"Hmm..."

He looked at her suspiciously, biting the inside of his lip. She wanted something from him, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

She leaned in close to him and whispered. "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk in a straight line."

He leaned back, considering her offer for a moment. "What's the catch?"

"None." She smiled sweetly back at him. God, this was weird.

"Alright."

"I walked here. You got a car?"

"Mm-hm. You'll have to show me where you want to go. My place isn't an option."

"Okay." They got into Otis's car, and he pulled out of the parking lot of the bar.

"Turn left up here." She directed him, letting her fingers graze his thigh.

He glanced down at her hand, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

"Keep going straight for a while."

Otis had no fucking clue where they were going, but she was really distracting him.

"You're gonna turn in about a mile and a half." She let her hand wander over to his groin. He swallowed heavily.

"There's a long trail...with some privacy."

"O...Okay..."

She fondled him through his jeans. He jerked at first, then groaned through clenched teeth, trying desperately to concentrate on the road.

She unzipped his pants, shoving her hand into them, and smirking. "Ooohh. That feels like fun." She licked her lips. "Pull in up here. That's safe enough. I can't wait anymore."

He parked the car and crawled into the back seat with her, pinning her down and stripping her clothes off roughly and absolutely ravaging her. He fucked her long and hard and slow, just the way he liked it. She seemed into it, moaning and screaming, raking her nails down his back and arching hers. Running her fingers through his hair and bucking her hips with his.

Satisfied, they drove again.

"Take me home."

"Okay."

"No, wait. I'll buy you dinner."

"Huh?"

"Oh, sweetie." She took his chin between her thumb and forefinger. He flinched away. Not often were hands laid on his face that they didn't have significant force behind them. "Don't you deserve a reward for that?" She licked her lips. "Mmm...Come on. Let me at least buy you some food."

Otis was bewildered. "O...Okay." He drove to the super market and picked out his groceries. She added items as she saw fit.

"Ohh, you should try these. And these. And these."

"I can't afford that!"

"You can't. But I can." She smirked over her shoulder at him.

And so it continued.

The next time, she brought him a new outfit: a new tank top, blue and red flannel shirt and a new pair of jeans. The time after that, she bought him groceries.

She was constantly showering him with gifts. She bought him a new knife, new clothes, groceries, anything he would possibly want she bought him.

He began to re-gain weight, and she seemed to hunger for him even more, inviting him to her home more and more often and finding places for them to fuck in private in the woods.

Free food, clothes and sex. What more could he ask for? His every need was taken care of.

And, she let him do whatever he wanted to her. She was voracious, and he loved it.

His hair was getting longer, and he started to like it: it just grazed his eyebrows in the front, and was the same length all around. He wore a ball cap or cowboy hat most of the time to protect him from the sun, however.

They were at the bar they had met at. Otis was fairly drunk; she had paid for drinks. They were dancing to some country rock song, and he was getting into it, relaxing and letting himself have a good time. He had everything he could possibly need taken care of. What could he possibly worry about?

"HEY! YOU MISERABLE MOTHER FUCKER!"

Otis heard the click as the man standing in front of him cocked a gun and aimed it at Otis's head. He was extremely large and muscular.

Staring down the barrel of a .44 will sober a man up very quickly.

"Whoa, whoa, man..." He held his hands up defensively, beginning to shake despite how he willed his body not to.

"What're you doin' dancing with my girl?"

"What?!" Otis turned and looked at her. She shrugged her shoulders. He saw the gun move closer to him and tensed. "Hey, listen man. I didn't know. I don't know you. I wouldn't do that to anyone, man. I...I'm not that way. Come on, man...I...I don't know you. I had no idea who she was. She came on to me, man, I swear!"

"Fuck you!"

"Listen...Listen, I know you...You don't owe me anything, but god, please god just let me go. I didn't know. I had no idea she had a man, she just came up to me lookin' for a good time and I said yes, man. I didn't...I didn't know."

"You came on to him!?"

"Yes! And I spent all your money on him, too!"

"YOU FUCKER!" He grabbed Otis by the throat.

"Hey! It's not my fault man! I didn't do it! I didn't know!" Otis choked.

The larger man let him go, growling in fury. "Dorris, you whore!" He turned his attention to the woman and Otis took his chance.

He honestly didn't know he could move as fast as he was as he sprinted away from the bar and down the road, ducking down any alleyway he could in case he was being followed.

Gasping for breath after his sprint, he sat down against a brick wall in an alley.

"Well, fuck." All good things came to an end.


	11. Chapter 11

_"Ooh, you slut...You like that, don't you. You like that you little whore. You're such a fucking waste of space and time. I'm wasting time just fuckin' you, you albino fuckin' freak. You're a freak! Look at you! look in the mirror!"_

 _His father grabbed his head and made him look in the mirror in front of him. Tears rolled down his battered face._

 _"Ooh, god your ass feels so good. Mmm...You're so afraid, aren't you? You're so scared..."_

 _Otis dared to nod. It earned him a blow to the face._

 _"Nnn...Keep bein' afraid...I like that...Makes you tighter..."_

 _He heard his father yell and felt some relief. It meant he was done._

 _He stuffed himself back into his jeans and sat down in front of Otis. Naked and quivering, blood running down his legs._

 _"Do you know what albino means, boy?"_

 _Otis shook his head._

 _"Means you're a fuckin' freak. That's all it means. Is your a freak of nature. No one will ever want you. No one will ever have a use for you. Won't be able to find a job worth anythin'. No one will want your freak ass on their property. Fuckin' useless freak, might as well be the definition next to albino in the dictionary. You're trash!" His father kicked him in the face, splitting his lip._

Otis awoke in a start, screaming into the darkness.

He had dared to try and sleep in a bed again. He was so comfortable falling asleep. His back didn't hurt, his legs weren't restless and his head rested softly on the pillow. He felt he had been distanced enough from his abuse that he could sleep soundly on a bed again. He hadn't had nightmares in weeks.

 _Albino. Albino. Albino. Piece of shit. Trash. Useless. Freak. Freak. FREAK._

He stalked into the bathroom, looking into the mirror. He hated what looked back at him. Too pale, sickly looking skin. Blood red eyes with flecks of blue closer to the pupil, and that fuckin' white hair. He hated himself. He hated being different.

He picked up the clippers on the side of the sink. His hair had grown to be a few inches long, but it was quite evident by its presence that he was different.

He shaved his hair off, leaving a little bit of stubble.

Back to square one. He was back to square one.

He climbed back into his makeshift bed on the floor, curling up into a ball. He just wanted so desperately for someone to love him. Not to lust for him, not to want to fuck him and leave him. But for someone to see who he was. On the inside. To really get to know him for him, not for the size of his penis, and to love him for it. Not just accept him, but to love him. He craved love. He craved affection. He desperately wanted someone to brush his cheek with the back of their hand and not hit him. For someone to touch him so lovingly and not have force behind it, or lust.

But he didn't deserve it. He was a freak. He would always be a freak. Nothing more than a useless sideshow attraction walking the streets.

Days passed, and the nightmares continued. He so regretted sleeping in the bed, but as his back ached from sleeping on the floor, it was his only choice for comfort.

 _His mother drug him in front of the mirror, poking him in the ribs. "You're so fuckin' fat. Look at you. Asshole. Idiot. Piece of shit. Why should I feed you? You're nothin' to me. You're useless. Pointless. I fucking hate you. You're fucking fat. Look at you. You're disgusting! God, you're so disgusting..." She rambled on and on._

He was disgusting. Looking in the mirror now, looking at how much weight he had gained since he had been on his own made him sick. He knew if he starved himself, his food would last longer, too. He wanted to win affection. He couldn't be disgusting. He needed love. He needed to survive.

The weight fell off of him. He only ate once a day, and those meals were extremely small. He tried his best to fill his stomach with water, if he had access to it, to stop the pain of the hunger he felt. It was nothing compared to what he had dealt with in the past, but he would rather not ever experience that again.

The old man at the trinket store noticed the changes in his employee, but didn't say anything. He knew Otis would deny it, and he would get nowhere with the boy, anyway.

When Otis came home from work one afternoon, he noticed his supplies were folded up into boxes. Someone had broken into the little space he had made his home.

They had left a note:

 _"If you are not evacuated by the end of this week, I will have you arrested and you will be sentenced for trespassing, as well as other charges I don't care to list here. I know what you look like: Tall, skinny pale man. About six foot. I am the land lord of this apartment, and I discovered you squatting here about 2 days ago. Get out, and I will press no charges._

Otis sighed. Well, onto the next town to start all over again.


	12. Chapter 12

The next town was not kind, either.

Otis huddled in an alleyway for days until he could find somewhere he could have a roof over his head. The winter still raged, and the air was crisp against his face. He didn't have a coat- only the flannel shirt he had wrapped around him and the blankets he had stolen from the apartment. He shivered violently, finally giving up and deciding to wander the town. He found a library and wandered in, earning a few suspicious looks from the patrons.

Books. He loved books. He could sit and read for hours and still hunger for more. And he did. Sitting in a warm corner of the library, he devoured page after page, novel after novel. He eventually dozed off, curling up in his blankets. When he awoke, the lights were off in the building.

The library was closed, and no one had discovered him. He was safe and warm for the night.

He curled back up again, sighing contentedly, and slept.

He awoke the next day to the lights being turned on. Blinking into them, he hoped desperately that he would still not be discovered. He heard footsteps walk past the bookcase he was hiding behind, and held his breath. They passed, and eventually he heard the normal bustle of the library in a big town. Teenagers making out behind the shelves, older women spending their time with the comfort of books, just as he was doing. He knew he should be out, looking for a job, looking for food. But he could treat himself to a day or two of rest. After all, he had traveled for miles in the freezing cold.

He sat, reading all day until a woman came up to him, coffee mug in hand.

"I was hoping you'd still be here..." She smiled softly. She was older than him by a good bit. Which didn't mean much- he was barely 18, almost everyone was older than he was. she had gray-blonde hair tucked into a neat bun and round glasses. Her kind smile was reassuring, but he was still apprehensive. "Are you all warmed up now? Your lips were blue when you first came in..." She offered him the mug of warm comfort. He swallowed heavily, leaning away.

"Who are you? What do you mean you were hoping I'd still be here? How did you know I was here?"

She knelt in front of the chair he was sitting in, resting a kind hand on his knee. He flinched, recoiling away from her. "Oh, sweetie..." She pressed the mug into his hands, willing him to take it. "I'm Katie. I'm a librarian here. I saw you come in yesterday. I went around to do the final check last night to make sure no one was here. I saw you sleeping here...I...I knew I should have kicked you out, but I saw you walk in. You looked so cold...Your...I swear your whole face was blue when you came in...And you don't have very warm clothes on to be wanderin' around here in the winter...D...Do you have a place to stay?"

"Yes." Otis answered too quickly. She knew he was lying, but could sense he was terrified, and wouldn't push the issue.

"Okay. Oh!" She noticed his eyes, how they shown a brilliant crimson in the lights of the building. Otis knew what she had seen, and looked away, at the mug in his hands. "You...You're quite special, aren't you?"

"...No..."

"Oh, dear. Well you look like it to me." She smiled at him. "Drink that up. It'll warm you to your toes." She walked away, leaving him to read once more.

Otis's stomach growled, and he cringed. God, it had been a while since he had eaten. He dug in the worn bag he had brought that had all his possessions in it, finding a box of crackers, and munching on them until the pain in his stomach had subsided.

Katie came back later in the day, a package in her hand. "Here. You look like you could use a little something to eat."

"I...I can't-"

"If it's money you're worried about, don't. I volunteer at the local homeless shelter and snagged this for you on my way out. Okay?"

"O...Okay..."

She pressed the food into his hands and left, back to her duties.

Before she left for home, she checked on him one last time.

"You can stay here another night if you need to. I hope no one sees you!" She pat his head lightly before leaving. He flinched, but she had barely touched him. He dozed off, warm and safe again for another night.

He awoke to the sounds of footsteps, but this time, it was still dark outside. He saw a flashlight pass over him, and held his breath once more.

"HEY! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN' HERE?!" The large man stalked over to him. Otis quickly skittered away, leaving his belongings. The man chased him around the library, until Otis was able to lose him long enough to gather his few treasures and skitter to a new hiding spot, where he was again discovered. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Otis tried to bolt for the exit, but the doors were locked from the inside, too. He crashed against the door, grunting as he rebounded off of them.

The police officer laughed. "Scared little mouse, trying to get out."

Fury rose in Otis at the nickname his father used to mock him with. He spun, kicking the officer with as much force as he could muster, falling on top of him and throwing punch after punch to his face. He felt a hard crack against his temple, and fell to the side. The officer was wielding his flashlight as a weapon now. Otis's head spun as he tried to sit up.

"Jesus..." The officer wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He grabbed Otis by the shirt collar, dragging him back to the door. Otis was still too dazed to fight back when he was deposited on the cold sidewalk.

He lay there until his head cleared, and began to wander, finding an alleyway to shield him from the wind.


	13. Chapter 13

Apparently, that night was the night Otis's luck ran out.

"Hey, kid. This is my territory! Get!"

Otis's head spun around just in time to get a foot smashed against his teeth.

"Fuck!" Otis tried desperately to fight back. He was weak, hungry and cold, but he put up a damn good fight. Until the other homeless man pulled a knife.

"Miserable weird ass piece of shit!" Otis narrowly dodged an attempt at his stomach, but didn't dodge a cut to the thigh and across his chest. Screaming in fury, the other man, plunged his knife into Otis's shoulder. Otis pulled it out, grabbed his things and ran, still clutching the knife in his hand. The homeless man followed him, finally tackling him into another alley. "Come here, you fuckin' freak!" He screamed. Otis threw the knife away as he was pummeled by the larger man, beating his face into a bloody pulp and then beating him indiscriminately. "I oughta show you!"

Otis felt him pulling down his pants. He was too weak to fight back. He groaned in protest, gurgling and choking on his own blood. There was nothing he could do except spit in the man's face, which only made him angrier and rougher, earning Otis more of a beating.

When he was done, the homeless man pulled Otis's pants back up, stole what little food he had, and left.

"There. Fuckin' freak. That's all you're good for is a good fuck. Nothin' else. You're disposable."

Being called special and disposable all in one day, Otis mused as he lay, helpless. He couldn't move. He knew some ribs were broken, probably had twisted an ankle in the fall. His face was beaten and he had been stabbed multiple times.

This is it. This is the end. He thought bitterly. At least he had fought. At least he had gotten away. He would freeze to death here. Or die from infection. He was too weak to move too far, so he slowly pulled his blankets over himself and settled, trying to pretend he was one of those children he had seen long ago, curled up in front of their fireplaces on cold winter nights, their loving parents reading to them, or talking to each other about how much they loved him.

Katie was discouraged. She hadn't seen that boy in the library for a few days. She had lost count of how many, actually. she knew he had been chased out by a security guard, but she wished she could find him.

Passing by an alleyway, she grimaced at the smell. It smelled rotten- like an infection. She stopped and peered into the alley. Volunteering at a homeless shelter had trained her to keep an eye out for such circumstances.

She gasped when she saw him. Unblinking red eyes stared back at her. He wasn't shivering, which was enough to spur her into action. She knew hew as hypothermic, if he wasn't shivering in these temperatures. She wondered where the smell was coming from, but she would find out sooner or later.

Otis awoke in a soft, warm bed. White was all around him. He was warm and comfortable. Was he dead?

"Shhhhhh..." He felt someone stroke his head, and he flinched, recoiling into the blankets. "Oh! You're awake! He's awake!" That familiar voice...He felt a hand on his cheek and whimpered in protest. He was too weak, and every movement caused excruciating pain. He definitely was not dead. There was no pain in death. "Shhh...It's okay."

He opened his eyes, seeing that sweet smiling face back at him. Katie.

"Thought you had a place to stay?" She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Either way, you do now. You're safe here."

That was the thing. Where was 'here'?

"I found you in that alley. You...You weren't moving...You weren't even blinking. Your body was shutting down. You had sever hypothermia...And did you get into a fight? Those wounds were bad, mister. And they're all infected. Each and every one of them. I don't know how you managed it, but you did."

He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. God, his head hurt.

"You're lucky someone found you. You would've been dead in a few more minutes."

Was he lucky? Or would the sweet embrace of death been better than suffering through this miserable life he lead?

"You were so cold they had to give you a peritoneal lavage. That's when they pump warm saline into your belly to warm you up quicker. But you don't have much of a belly, do you? That's why you were so cold...That's why it was so bad." She shook her head. "I should have taken you when I saw you. I knew you were lying to me...Maybe this wouldn't have happened to you."

Otis tried to speak, but it came out as a gargle.

"Shhhh...Just relax." She stroked his face again, and he flinched. "...Someone hurt you, didn't they...?"

Otis stared back at her, fear in his eyes.

"I know they did...I'm so sorry. But you don't have to worry about that here, okay?" She adjusted the oxygen mask on his face that Otis hadn't noticed. He tried to move his hand to remove it, but pawed dumbly at his face. He was too weak, too numb, still. "No, no. Don't do that." She tucked his arm back under the blankets. "You just rest now. We'll take care of you." She smoother the blankets over his chest.

When it came time to eat, she propped his head up and removed his oxygen mask, feeding him small bites of food.

"I know you're probably starving, but I don't want you to choke..."

Otis turned his head away.

"Oh, come on now. Don't be stubborn." She tapped his chest to try and get his attention. He ignored her. "Hey, now. I saved you. Can't you eat for me?"

Otis turned back to her, concern on his face. She took the opportunity to shove the food in his mouth.

"There. Now you let me feed you and take care of you, you hear? It's my job. So don't think you're puttin' me out any by accepting our help. You need it." She held his head up to help him drink some warm tea. "There. That'll warm your bones."

She pulled his blankets down and he shivered. She pulled the bandages away from his chest, making him cringe.

"I know, sweetie. I know." She looked at the wounds, inspecting them. "Looks like their still healing well." She covered him back up. "Now you just rest. You're safe here."

"Where...?" He managed. His own voice sounded foreign to him.

"The homeless shelter, sweetie. It'll all be okay." She replaced his oxygen mask.

He drifted to sleep, thankful that at least he was warm.


	14. Chapter 14

God, the last time Otis had been this miserable, he had just escaped his parents.

Every inch of his body hurt. It hurt to move. It hurt when Katie stroked his face, even hurt when she lay blankets on him.

"Oh, you poor thing..." She muttered, sighing. "What are we gonna do with you?"

Otis settled into the pillow, burrowing his face into the blankets.

"You've been through hell, haven't you...?"

Otis peered over the mound of fabric at her. How could she know?

"I know because I have too. I can see it in people's eyes, now, because I'm used to seeing it in the mirror." She reached to touch him, and he flinched, hiding his face under the blanket, beginning to tremble. He was defenseless in the state he was in. If she started hitting him, he couldn't run. He couldn't fight back. The only option he had was to hide. "Shhh..." She pulled the blanket away from his eyes, and he stared wide-eyed back at her as she gently stroked his cheek. "Your parents beat you, didn't they? They hurt you so much..."

She saw right through him, and it unnerved Otis. At the same time, he was thankful that finally, someone had seen the pain in him and hadn't faulted him for it.

She stroked his head, feeling the jagged scars that ran along his scalp. "They made these, didn't they?"

Otis tried to fight the urge to flinch away and cower. God, those touches just felt so good...

"I can't even imagine how cute you were as a baby. I might die if I do." She smiled softly.

Otis was fighting sleep, now. His eyes rolled back in his head as she stroked what little hair he had. He fidgeted, trying to stay awake. His fever raged, and he ached everywhere, but her touches began to lull him to sleep. They were so warm and loving.

"Or as a little boy. My goodness. I bet if I saw you I would have picked you up and squeezed you. Taken you away from those terrible people..." She moved the blanket further away from his face, cupping his jaw to stroke his cheek again. He tried to pull away, but she didn't relent. "Shhh...You're such a handsome young man...I would be so proud if you were my son. You're so, so special..."

Otis shook his head, mustering the strength to speak. "...Freak..."

"No. You absolutely are not. I don't ever want to hear you call yourself that again, mister. Don't you understand how special you are? The odds of you being born the way you were. You're special. You're one in a million. You're not a freak, you're a work of art created by nature." She smiled. "You're an albino, aren't you?"

Otis nodded sadly. The term had always been followed by insults.

"I bet your hair would be beautiful if you grew it out."

Otis looked at her, wary.

She sighed. "Just rest, sweetie. You'll get better. And when you do, we'll work on all that, okay? But you are special, honey. You deserve to be loved and be safe."

He closed his eyes, finding solace.

The days passed and Otis began to regain his strength. He was able to feed himself, and he was able to speak again.

She finally had learned his name, and frequently sat and talked to him. "How're you today, Otis?"

He shrugged. "I'm alright."

She smiled. "So are you gonna take my advice?"

"Huh?"

"Are you gonna grow your hair out?"

"I-I...I hadn't thought about it..."

"Well? What do you think of it?"

Otis paused, trying to pick the correct words. "I...I used to have long hair...When I was really little...But uh...My...My mom...Started shaving my head to make me look normal instead of...the way I am."

"Beautiful. Unique. Art."

Otis blushed. "I...I guess...I always hated it when she did it...I...I liked my hair..."

"Well, why don't you have it long now?"

Otis looked away. "Because I'm a freak. And it makes me look like one."

"Otis. I told you I never wanted to hear you call yourself that again."

"But people notice...They don't want...They don't want someone like me workin' for them...S'hard to get a job...When...When you look like I do."

"Did you ever think that maybe YOU think that they won't hire you because of that, and you act a certain way that makes them not hire you?"

Otis fell silent. "N...No..."

"What is it that you like to do?"

"I...Mm..." He felt anxious suddenly. He couldn't tell her what he liked to do. She would rub it in his face. She would toy with him for it. He had stolen canvases at one time or another, stealing the paint he would need, as well. He sat down in that apartment he had squatted in and painted all night. He wasn't sure why the thought had occurred to him, but he felt so calm, so at peace for the first time in his life.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I can't...I can't tell you..."

"Why?"

"Because you'll mock me for it."

"Why would I do that, Otis? There is nothing in this world that you enjoy doing that I would subject you to ridicule for. Me? I enjoy reading. I enjoy playing with my dogs. Spending time with my husband..."

Otis's heart fluttered at Husband. He wanted to be someone's husband some day. He wanted someone to love him like that. He doubted he ever would, though. He had too many walls to break down. Too much pain. No one would ever put up with that very long.

"So tell me, what do you enjoy?"

"...Artwork..."

"Oh! Do you have anything that I could see?"

He shook his head. "No...I...I burnt it all..."

"What?! Why?"

"It was worthless...A...And I couldn't take it with me...S...So I used it for a fire in the winter..."

"Oh, sweetie..."

"What's it matter, anyway?"

"Because you can find a job doing that. You can sell your artwork. What else do you like?"

"I...I...I know how to fix up cars...I...I read a lot..."

"Oh! Well, that's a great way to get a job around here, especially." She smiled softly. "Otis..."

"Hn?"

"I want you to do something for me."

"O...Okay...?"

"I want you to take back your body for your own. It's YOURS. It's not your mother's. It's not your father's. They can't control you. I want you to take your body back and claim it as your own."

Otis stared back at her.

"You know how I want you to start?" She asked. Otis shook his head. She took his face in her hands gently. He flinched back wildly, but she moved with him. "I want you to start looking the way YOU want to look. Not the way they told you you should to hide who you are. Can you do that for me?"

Otis nodded, mystified.


	15. Chapter 15

Otis continued to gain strength, and eventually was mobile enough. His wounds still stung, and still oozed infection, but he was getting better.

"Good morning, Otis." Katie sat down next to him.

"H...Hey..."

"How are you feeling today?"

"B...Better...Still sore, but..." He shrugged.

She nodded. "That's gonna be for a while, sweetie." She paused for a moment. "What do you think about getting a nice hot shower?"

Otis's eyes lit up. God, it sounded so good. He could already feel the warm steam dulling the aches and pains in his body. But would she want to help him? He was still weak and injured. Would she INSIST on helping him?

"I see that face. Sounds good to you, huh?"

He nodded.

"I'll stay close if you need me, but I know how skittish you are. I won't stick around in the shower, but I'll help you there. There's a seat in there so you don't have to stand the whole time. I'll get some clean clothes from your things for when you come out, okay?"

Otis sighed in relief, nodding.

She helped him out of bed, gently resting her hand in the small of his back. He flinched, grimacing at the sudden movement.

"Shhhh...You're alright. Just put one foot in front of the other...There you go...You're just a little stiff and sore."

Once they had gotten to the shower in the shelter, she shut the door, leaving it unlocked, and standing outside.

"Just yell if you need anything."

"Okay." He undressed, tossing his clothes aside. Looking in the mirror, he grimaced. He had really gotten the hell beaten out of him. He noticed his hair was longer than he usually kept it. He contemplated asking Katie for a razor, but decided against it. He was going to reclaim his body. And he had to start somewhere.

He turned the hot water on and stood under the spray, sighing in delight as it coursed over his body. He let it warm his face, goosebumps rising on his skin. The water stung on his wounds, but he didn't care. It felt so good.

Shame hit him in a tidal wave as he remembered what had happened to him in that alley. The homeless man had pulled his pants down and...

Otis shuddered, tears threatening to spill. Why? Why him? Why was he damned to this miserable cycle?

He sobbed openly in the confines of the shower.

Katie heard the desperate, pained cries. Her heart ached for him. This scared, sweet young man. She knew all he wanted was to be loved, to be accepted. She could see it in his eyes, could see it when she talked to him. But he was terrified. Absolutely petrified of letting anyone get close for fear they would hurt him, just as his parents had. The people who were supposed to love him and care for him unconditionally. What hell had he gone through? What terrible things had been done to him as a boy? She shuddered to think. People could be horribly creative when it came to torturing others, and she hated to think what could have been done to this sweet boy.

Otis lathered himself liberally, relishing in the cleanliness of his skin as the blood and dirt mixed in the water as it drained. He hated to leave the little warm heaven he had, but he knew Katie would begin to worry, so he stepped out and dried himself off with the soft, warm towels she had placed for him.

He carefully put his clean clothes on, and stepped out.

"Woooooow look at you." Katie smiled.

Otis blushed. "W...What?"

"All clean and handsome. You'll be quite a catch for someone someday." She helped him hobble back to his bed, and helped him settle again. "We'll leave your wounds dry out a little. Just to make sure all the water is out of them before we wrap them up again. Okay?"

Otis nodded. "Th...Thank you."

"It's my job, Otis. It's a homeless shelter. It's what we do."

He nodded. "o...Okay..."

"I did manage to get you something, though."

"W...What? No, I-"

She pushed a notebook and pencils into his hands. "Do what you enjoy doing. I'd love to see you smile."

"N...No I can't...I can't take this! I-"

"Calm down. I just found it. I didn't buy it. Okay?"

"O...OKay..."

"Like I said, I would love to see a smile on that handsome face, young man." She smiled at him. "Oh! I do have one thing to ask that you draw for me, though."

"W...What's that?"

"I want you to draw me what you want to look like. That way, I can help you get there. Okay?"

"O...O...O-k...kay..."

"Can you do that for me?"

He nodded.

"That's something pretty secretive to you, huh? That's a pretty deep desire?"

"Y...Yeah..."

"Well, just draw it like you're drawing it for you. I'll find it later so you don't have to make a big deal out of showing me, okay?"

Otis nodded again.

She left him to create, and he spent most of the day doing so, working through his thoughts and emotions through the art work, allowing his mind to run free and his imagination to come out on the paper.

Finally, he set to drawing what he had asked her too. It was surprisingly easy for him. He hadn't given much thought to it, but he had an imagine in mind as soon as he set pencil to paper.

When Otis was asleep, Katie snuck over to his bed and pulled out his notebook. Flipping through the pages, she had to hold back a gasp. His sketches were absolutely beautiful. Figures and faces with such amazing detail she couldn't believe. Finally, she came across one she knew was him. It had that nose, that jaw structure. It was a simple portrait. Not as much detail or love was put into it as the others. She could sense an outright disgust at the image as he had formed his own face. But his portrait wore a dashing smile, and seemed to exude confidence. He had long, cascading hair and was not clean-shaven.

"I think I can help you with that, Otis..." She pressed the book shut and pulled his blankets higher, smiling softly as he slumbered.


	16. Chapter 16

When Otis stirred awake again, Katie was right there beside him.

"Hey."

"Mmm..." He rubbed his eyes. "What time is it...?"

"It's 2 in the afternoon, sweetheart. What does it matter? You're still recovering. You're allowed to rest." She pulled the covers back over his shoulders. "I looked at your sketches while you were asleep." She smiled at him. "Goodness, Otis, you have a talent. They're beautiful."

His face reddened, and he sat up.

"And I saw your sketch of yourself. I think you would look quite handsome with long hair. There's one in there that sticks out to me, though. It's a man that looks somewhat like you, but he's not you. Who is that, Otis?"

"...My Dad..."

"I see..." She paused for a moment. "What did he do to you, Otis?" There was so much hatred in fear in that sketch. She could see it, how the lines were more jagged. His expression betrayed it, as well: hateful, cruel.

Otis began to rub his arm anxiously, shaking his head. The last time he had told someone, they laughed at him and threw it in his face, calling him disgusting. Making fun of him for it. He began to tremble slightly as memories flooded back to him. He drew his legs in, still shaking his head. "N...No..."

"No what, sweetie?"

"I...I don't want to tell you...I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. Okay. It's okay. You don't have to." She gently cupped his jaw. Stuck in his memories, he flinched away from her, but she didn't relent. "Shhhh..." She soothed. "But I want you to know, Otis...That just...by the way you acted...I know what he did."

Wide-eyed, Otis looked up at her.

"It's okay..." She smiled softly down at him. "You know, I still haven't seen you smile yet. Think you can give that to me sometime?"

Otis nodded. He would work on it.

Katie began to let him up and around to wander, so long as he would come back to stay the night. He set out looking for a job, praying he could find something.

He was desperate. He knew he couldn't stay at the shelter forever. And he didn't have anywhere to stay without it. The winter was a brutal one for the south, the cold straining through his jacket. People would always need their cheap thrills, and when he saw the neon lights, he stopped in awe. Freak was always a painful, vengeful word for him, but maybe he could use that pain for his own gain.

He wandered into the shop, jumping at the jingling doorbell.

"How can I help you, sweetie?" A woman leaned over the counter, thumbing through a magazine, paying him no mind.

"Saw you needed some help."

The woman raised her head, and then seemed startled. "O...Oh...You...You want to be a part of the show, I'm assuming..."

He scoffed. "Don't really fancy bein' called a freak. But y'know...If it pays, it pays." He shrugged.

The woman smirked. "Mmm. I'll get the madame." She wandered away, sashaying down the hallway, swinging her hips.

Another woman followed. Her ebony skin shone with oil in the dim light of the building. Her curly, long black hair fell about her shoulders, and Otis swore he felt himself blush. God, she was gorgeous. In a slim-fitting gold flapper dress and nude high-heels, she looked like a goddess. Her plump lips formed a smile over her porcelain white teeth. Green eyes shone with mischief.

"Hmmm." she looked him up and down. "How do I know that's not body paint and contacts, sweetie?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why the fuck would anyone volunteer to look like this? It's not worth the ridicule."

"And yet here you come to a shop that will display you like a mannequin for the enjoyment of others?"

He smirked, looking down at his shoes. Worn, dirty. His toe ready to poke out of his left. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, mama."

She smirked, taking a drag of a cigarette. "You're one of those people that can talk the birds out of the trees, huh?"

"H...huh?"

"Tell you what, sweet thing. You prove to me it's not all smoke and mirrors, and I'll take you on."

Otis gulped. "H...How do I go about that?"

She beckoned him to follow her, and he did.

She unzipped his coat, and he shivered. God...The last time he had been undressed...

She unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders, nodding in appreciation. "Hmmm...Baby you look like the milky way." She bit her lip. "And I want a taste." She unzipped his trousers, pulling them down.

Otis closed his eyes, sighing shakily. God, what a fucking life. Here he was, standing naked in front of a beautiful woman who wanted to have sex with him, and he didn't want to. He was scared. Too scared of his past. Too scared of the trauma that had just happened.

God knows he didn't want this. But did that make him less of a man? Not wanting this woman?

She pushed him against the bed in the room, and he stiffened. When she climbed on top of him, he yelped in fear.

"Shhhh...Don't you wanna taste?" She pulled her dress to the side, exposing her breasts.

"I...I..." No. He really didn't. He was as surprised as anyone at the fear that took hold of him. It was too soon after...

His heart pounded as she caressed him, all but purring in his ear as he trembled slightly. "Oh, big man. You ain't scared, are you?"

Otis gulped. He was fucking terrified. Damn his parents. Damn them for taking even this away from him. She pressed on his chest, pinning him down. He panicked, struggling against her, grabbing her forearms.

"Oh, sweetie. It's gonna be a rough night for you."

She was right. In some parts more so than others.

He wandered back to the shelter, neck hurting from the sensual bites and nibbles, his back thrown out of place from being ridden like a horse, and his pride and ego more wounded. Was this what he was subjecting himself to? Becoming a male prostitute for women who wanted to have sex with a carnival freak? Cowering at a woman's touch because he was so badly broken?

The next day, Katie served him breakfast. "Hey...Why're you so down? Where were you last night?"

"Out lookin' for a job..."

"Okay...W...why is your neck all bruised?"

He looked at her, shame and regret filling his eyes.

"Otis...You didn't want this, did you?"

He shook his head, looking down at the food in front of him, suddenly nauseated.

"Did...Did they...Did they hurt you?"

He shook his head again.

"Are...Are you okay, sweetie?"

He nodded, rubbing his arm anxiously. "I'll be okay...Ain't nothin' I'm not used to..."

Katie sighed, pulling Otis against her in an embrace. He balked, stiffening in fear, but relented to the affection. "Don't diminish your suffering. You deserve to be able to voice your pain..."

"I'm fine..." He muttered. He wasn't. Of course he wasn't. He was struggling internally more than he ever had. Was this just part of growing up? Or was it because his life was a literal shit storm?

She sighed. "Okay...Hey...Why don't you come to my house for dinner tonight?"

"Huh? Why?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Because I invited you, dummy. I talk about you a lot. my husband wants to meet you."

"O..Oh...I...I...I can't...I...I couldn't-"

"Otis. I'm inviting you. It's just dinner. There's no commitment. You don't have to repay me somehow..."

"O...Okay."


	17. Chapter 17

Katie stayed at Otis's side, fussing over him.

"Otis...Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"I...I'm fine...Really...I...It's not the first time..."

"Sweetheart..."

"It...It wasn't even really like...THAT...I don't know..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She sighed. "Did you get hurt?"

"No..."

"Okay. That's good at least." She stroked his hair, moving with him as he flinched away from her. "Shhhh..."

Otis filled with hatred. How could he be acting like this? He had just had sex with a gorgeous woman, and here he was acting like a victim. But he hadn't wanted it. He wasn't aroused by her. He hadn't been interested. And yet it had happened anyway. Did that make it the same as his father? No, he was just weak. A battered little bitch who couldn't defend himself from anything. That's all he ever would be. Worthless. Pathetic. Used, damaged goods.

"Otis...What are you thinking about?"

"Hn?...Nothin'."

"You're upset. I can tell."

He looked up at her, questioning.

"When you're angry or upset about something, you frown and wrinkle your nose up a little bit."

Otis cocked his head. Someone had taken the time to observe him that closely that she could read his body language? He hadn't known he was that expressive, either.

"Sweetheart...Talk to me."

"I...I don't..." He shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"B...Because it's humiliating."

"Otis..." She sighed. "Alright...If I guess what happened, will you talk a little about it?"

He glanced at her, looking away then.

"Did someone abuse you like your father used to...?"

"S...See...That's...the thing...I...I should have wanted it...B...But...But I didn't..."

"Honey, then it's still wrong."

"But-"

"No. If you had any inclination that you didn't want it, that is still abuse."

Oof. If that was the logic she was working from, she was going to have a real problem with him whoring himself out.

That night, he went to dinner at her home. Her husband was a kind enough man, but intimidated Otis. The way he looked at the younger albino with such piercing eyes, Otis felt like he saw through him. He felt exposed, and he hated it.

"Katie sure talks about you a lot. She worries about you a lot too, young man."

"Nothin' to worry about with me. I'm gettin' better. I'm out of the woods, just gotta keep getting stronger."

"You're a little on the thin side, there, aren't you?"

Otis flushed. "Y...Yeah, I guess..."

"It's okay...You'll get better. Katie was like this when I first met her. She went through hell too, you know."

Otis cocked his head.

"Maybe she'll tell you. But I won't push her."

Otis nodded.

The second part of his life seemed like such a dichotomy to him. Admittedly, he enjoyed the power that he felt he had over these women. He had total control in this world. He was in control of the pleasure. He was in control of the experience. And he was getting paid. To do his favorite thing in the world: Have sex. But he wanted more from his life. It felt empty and hollow. He wanted a life like Katie and her husband had.

Otis wandered into the brothel that night, somewhat reluctantly. He wanted to believe the optimism Katie was trying to shed, but something kept gnawing at him. That he would never be worth anything.

"You! Come here." The owner of the brothel pointed to Otis, and gestured for him to follow. Otis was led into a back room, where four larger men were waiting. They were on him all at once, throwing him onto the small table in the room, and tying his hands and feet down. "We don't have enough to supply condoms for every woman that uses you, and we can't trust them to carry one with them. Men do. But men are also paying customers. You aren't. When you use them for clients, it's a waste. So we're going to fix that."

A piece of wood was shoved into Otis's mouth. He felt cold hands on his genitals, and struggled wildly.

"This will hurt a bit...But it will be over quickly."

Otis screamed as a needle was inserted, dosing some numbing medicine. The others waited a while, then began the operation.

Otis screamed again as the scalpel drug across his scrotum, making an incision. The pain was absolutely blinding. He panicked, hyperventilating until he blacked out.

When he came to, he was released from the restraints, but god he was sore. The owner stood over him, smirking.

"What did you do to me...?" Otis growled.

"I had you sterilized. No sense in having to pay for something we don't have to, is there? You'll be sore for a good while, but that won't stop you from making me money."

Otis glared, snarling at the man. One day, he would get his revenge.

Wobbling back to the shelter that night, he had to stop and lean against the cold brick walls of buildings as the pain surged through him and became too much. He vomited, dragging himself through the cold streets to safety. They had treated him like an object. Yet again. That's all he would ever be. Never valued. Never wanted. Just an object. Cattle to be used and then neutered.

His heart panged at what he had lost. The idea of having children had never crossed his mind, but now that it had been taken from him forever, he ached for it. The possibility of a child. With someone who loved him. Tossed into the flames.

The next day, when he awoke, his body ached. The pain in his groin was excruciating, and he didn't dare move. Katie noticed, feeling his forehead.

"Are you sick again sweetheart? You're so pale..."

"No...Just...hurt..."

"Hurt?"

Otis looked at her, silently pleading for her not to ask any further.

"Please...Please tell me..."

Sighing, he wrote it down in his notebook and passed it to her. Somehow, that was easier than voicing the words. The humiliation of how he was earning money. The tragedy of what had happened to him the night before.

As she read it, her face went pale. "O...Okay...L...Let me get you an ice pack..." She left, returning with the treasured relief. Otis took it, slipping his hand back under the blanket and laying it in place, sighing in relief. "I...I can't imagine...Otis...I..."

He shook his head. "Don't make me think about it."

Katie began to cry, her tears falling on his blanket. He watched her, bewildered. No one had ever cried over him. No one had ever been concerned enough. Why was she?

"Sweetheart...I'm so, so sorry..." She wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. "I wish that...I wish so many things for you...But none of this."

Otis was awestruck.


	18. Chapter 18

"Otis? Otis, you in there?" Katie waved her hand in front of his face. He flinched, but came back to the present, finding his way out of his thoughts.

"Sorry..."

"It's okay sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "Been worse."

"Well, yes..."

"I'm alright. Don't worry about me."

The words he spoke were a direct contradiction to how he felt. He wanted to cry, wanted to sob and scream and hit something- someone- anything. Break something. He didn't understand why he always had to be the one. Always the broken one. The one being abused. The one who had everything taken from him.

"I know you're not, Otis. It's okay to feel..."

"Oh, believe me, I'm feelin' somethin'..." He cringed as he tried to adjust himself.

"Otis...Why don't you come to dinner tonight again?"

"I have to work..."

"No. You are not going back there."

"If I don't. It makes what I went through pointless. And I am not prepared to deal with that."

"Alright, honey...I understand."

As Otis limped through the door that night, he kept his head down, simply going back to his designated room.

"Otis-" One of the girls called after him. He stopped, not lifting his gaze. "Otis...I'm sorry..."

He slammed the door to the room, waiting for his customers.

This bitch was particularly rough. And as much as Otis usually enjoyed sex, he hated this round.

She wrenched his hair at the roots, making him cry out in pain in a long howl. She seemed to like this reaction, and tugged harder. He swore she was going to rip out a chunk from his head, until she relinquished her grip, only to move it to a different spot.

Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. She slapped him, then, laughing cruelly as she rode him until he was satisfied.

That night, he dreamed of the future he would never have. Of running after a pale little boy with snow white hair, just like his. Of a loving wife that he would hold while she was pregnant and would treat like a queen.

He awoke with tears still streaming down his cheeks, and Katie stroking his shoulder. "Honey...It's okay."

Wiping his eyes, he sat up. "Katie...Can I have a pair of clippers?"

"Oh, Otis no...Don't cut your hair. You want it long...That's how you want to look...Don't let what someone told you or did change that for you. Unless you changed your mind?"

"No..."

"Well then I'm not getting them for you..." She stroked his hair, expertly moving with him as he flinched. "Ohh...Honey, are you sore?"

He nodded. "Got...Got yanked on..."

"Sweetheart..."

"I do still want to get a shower..."

"Okay..." She followed him, waiting outside until he bathed.

Once in the safe confines of the steam and water, he sobbed hysterically.

This hellish existence wasn't anything what he had imagined his life would be like. And he didn't know how much longer he could take it. He wanted so desperately to end his life. To just end this suffering, the pain that he felt in his heart. This unbearable pain that he felt every waking moment of his existence. He just wanted it to end. He had never thought he could sink this low. He thought it would only get better once he left his parents and their abuse. How naive and stupid he had been.

"Stupid...idiot...stupid!" He beat his thighs until large purple welts rose. The physical pain almost felt good- distracting him from the emotional pain he felt and punishing himself for being as foolish as he had been.

He dug his nails into his thighs as deeply as he could, leaving shallow gauges along the length of his leg. Then, he scarred his shoulders and stomach, small trickles of blood circling the drain. He knew he had to hide the wounds from Katie. They weren't severe enough to need attention, but she would notice them if they were in her view and she would question it.

He almost felt relieved as he dried off and dressed. At least this pain he knew how to deal with.

"Oh, sweetheart. Your eyes are all bloodshot..."

"Yeah..."

"I heard you crying...It's okay, Otis. It's going to be okay. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But it will be. I promise."

"Wasn't cryin'..."

"Okay, sweetie. D...Do you uh...work...Tonight?"

He nodded.

"When do you uh...have a night off?"

"Tomorrow. And the next night."

"Oh. Well, then how about you stay over night at my house then? Wouldn't that be fun?"

"W...why?"

"To get you out of here a little while. Don't you want to?"

"I-I...You trust me...You trust me enough?"

"I'm not stupid, Otis. I know you're homeless. I know that it's likely you would steal. But I also know you. You're too loyal for that. You would never screw over a person that's helped you."

He looked down and away, knowing she was right.

"We have a spare bedroom. It would be no trouble at all. I think it would be fun."

"A-Alright. Alright. Yeah...It would be."

"Sounds perfect then." She smiled, stroking his face.

As he walked into the brothel, he tried to keep his head down, as usual, but was stopped by a blonde woman. One of the other workers.

"Otis. I...I'm so sorry for what happened to you..."

"What're you talking about." He asked coldly.

"Th...They...They did...They sterilized you...I...We all saw it."

"What?"

"You...You didn't see us. You were too scared. But they made us all watch. They made an example out of you."

Closing his eyes and sighing, Otis tried to push past her.

"Otis, wait!"

"What."

"We...We know you're hurting. You have to be sore. So...Uhm..." She handed him a dingy envelope, his name scrawled across the back of it. "It's not much...But...We..."

He carefully opened it, revealing a 'get well soon' card, signed by all of his 'coworkers'. Inside was a coupon to a restaurant, cut from the paper.

Before he could stop himself, he had his arms wrapped around the blonde. "Thank you..." He retreated back to his room, marveling over the card after each client.

As the night wound down, he found himself sprawled across his designated bed. It wasn't quite closing time, but it was unlikely anymore customers would wander in.

"Hey, Otis?" The blonde slowly opened the door.

"Hm?" He asked, not tearing his gaze from the ceiling.

"How about...if I show you what it feels like to have good sex?"

"What?"

"Y'know. To be really loved on..."

"Why would you do that for me?"

"Because. You're too young to have all this hurt on you and no happiness."

"I'm happy."

"Bullshit, Otis. I may be a whore but I'm not a dumb one. I'm trying to pay my way through school. I'm not just in this for fun. I can see the pain in your eyes. You're absolutely miserable, and every day is hell for you. So why don't you let me show you what it feels like?"

"I know what it feels like. I've had it before from someone who really hurt me."

"Is that a no?" She bit her lip, trying to hide a smile. "What if I thought you were hot regardless and just wanted to fuck you?"

Now that logic, he couldn't argue with.


End file.
